Written in response to Ressler Prompt # 3: Reunion after Liz's apparent death. Angst or fluff
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"Best of luck in New York, Don. They'll be lucky to have you and you'll certainly be missed here." Harold Cooper stood and shook Donald Ressler's hand firmly before pulling him closer and clapping him on the back.
"Thank you, sir. I'll miss you too." Ressler meant every word. He had come to consider Cooper as much a friend as a boss and he was genuinely going to miss working with him.
Aram and Samar met him at the bottom of the stairs as he left Cooper's office. "So this is really it? You're really leaving?" Aram asked nervously.
Ressler chuckled. "Yes, Aram. I'm really leaving. But you'll have Liz back tomorrow so I bet you guys are hardly going to notice that I'm gone."
"Trust me, we'll notice," Samar said quietly. "I completely understand why you're doing this, but I wish..." Her voice trailed off and she embraced him quickly. Ressler locked eyes with Aram over Samar's shoulder and nodded. They understood one another.
"I'm really going to miss you, Agent Ressler," Aram said. "It just won't be the same without you."
"I'll miss you too, Aram. Take care of yourselves." Ressler turned and headed for the elevator. He hated long goodbyes. Before the elevator doors closed, he took one last look at the war room. Ten years. It was going to be strange to work somewhere else, but he was ready for a fresh start. Hell, he needed a fresh start.
He unlocked the door of his apartment and tossed his jacket over a chair and loosened his tie. He'd put in for a couple of weeks off in order to have time to find a new place before starting work in the FBI's New York Field Office. He hadn't found someone to sublet his D.C. apartment yet, but he didn't expect it to take too long. Tomorrow he'd take a drive up to New York and start looking at apartments.
He headed into the bedroom and changed into a t-shirt and jeans and then stopped in the kitchen to grab a beer. He popped the beer open and flopped down on the couch and flipped on the Nationals game.
An hour later, he was on his second beer when he heard a knock at the door. He put the beer down on the coffee table with a groan and padded over to the door. He looked through the peep hole and felt his heart rate quicken as he saw who was on the other side. What the hell is she doing here? he thought. He steeled himself and opened the door, doing his best to keep his face carefully blank.
"What do you want, Keen?" he asked curtly. He stood, arms folded in the entry way, waiting for her response but offering no welcome. She looked a little surprised at his cold tone, but met his gaze evenly.
"Can I come in? We need to talk." He stared at her. It was surreal to see her in the living, breathing, flesh. God, he'd missed her. Part of him wanted to grab her and hug her and the rest of him wanted to tell her to leave, to go away and leave him alone. But it wasn't worth starting a scene in the hallway, so he stood aside wordlessly and let her pass by.
He followed her into the living room and reached for the remote and turned off the game so the room was suddenly silent. He turned to face her and now she was staring at him, her expression unreadable. "You look good," he said, finally, not really knowing where to begin. And she did. Her hair was a little longer than when he'd seen her last, gently framing her face. Her face was thinner too with the extra weight of pregnancy gone. "Welcome back."
"Some welcome back," she scoffed, her blue eyes piercing his. "What's going on, Ressler? I called Cooper to talk about tomorrow and he told me you requested a transfer to New York? That you've left the Task Force for good?"
"Yeah," he said flatly. "I start in two weeks."
"Why - why would you do that?" she sputtered. "I thought – I thought we were finally all going to be together again!"
He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though that was not even close to how he felt. "Needed a fresh start, I guess."
"So you were going to leave without even saying goodbye?" she asked sharply.
You did, he said to himself. But outwardly, he simply shrugged again. "Didn't realize it meant that much to you. I'm sorry."
"Didn't realize it meant that much... Come on, Ressler, you know me better than that!" she exclaimed angrily. "After everything that's happened you weren't even going to talk to me? You were just going to run away?"
He took a deep breath. He had hoped to avoid this confrontation by leaving the Post Office when he did, before she came back, but she had brought it right to his doorstep. So be it. After tonight, he'd probably never see her again. Might as well lay it all out on the table.
"Look, Liz. I'm glad you're back. I'm glad you're safe. But I can't pretend that the last few months - hell, that the whole last year never happened. I can't just pick up where we left off. I'm not wired that way, I guess. I mean, it's great that Reddington can, and that you've got your position back. But I'm done Liz - I can't do this anymore."
She shook her head. "So that's it? You're just going to walk away?" she snapped.
"You did," he replied coldly.
"That's not fair, Ressler!" she replied angrily.
He clenched his jaw and his face flushed. "No, what wasn't fair was letting us think you were really dead, Liz! We buried you! We had a funeral and a grave and...I'm sure Tom's told you all about it," he finished bitterly with a dismissive wave of his hand.
She took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I had no choice, you have to understand that."
"There's always a choice, Liz," he replied tightly. "You can keep telling yourself otherwise but you and I both know that's not true."
"What did you expect me to do?" she protested, her voice rising again, "I was trying to protect my daughter! She was never going to be safe unless I could convince the world I was gone!"
Ressler exhaled loudly. "Look, I understand why you did what you did that day, Liz. I do. What I don't understand is why you didn't trust us enough - trust me enough - to let us know that you were ok afterwards. Why put us through the whole charade for weeks? You let us go on believing you were really dead! Do you have any idea what that felt like?"
Her eyes flashed defiantly. "If you knew, then Reddington would have found out, somehow. And if found out, he would never have stayed away."
Ressler shook his head. "Look where running away from him got you," he said finally.
"Do you think I'm proud of how this all went down?" she said, exasperated. "Look I understand that I hurt all of you..."
"Do you, Liz? Do you really understand?" He cut her off and paced around the room. "Because I don't think you do." He turned and faced her, fists clenched at his side. "I saw a man I once considered my worst enemy reduced to a shell of himself from grief. He collapsed, Liz - literally. I saw one of the strongest women I know - who, let's not forget, gave up her brother to keep you alive - almost collapse. I saw Aram struggle to make it through a day without crying. I..." He turned his back to her and went to stand by the window, struggling to hide the tide of emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him.
She paused before responding. "And you," she said softly, behind him. "You put everything on the line - you almost took a bullet for me. And then you had to bury me, only to find out that another partner had betrayed you."
"Stop profiling me, Keen," he said gruffly, willing himself to remain in control. She came up behind him and touched his sleeve. He shook her off and she stood quietly behind him, waiting.
"I let you in, Liz" he said finally. "I don't let people in anymore. I've learned not to. But you - I let myself get close - too close. I compromised myself. I did things I never would have done...I almost let Reddington kill your father because I wanted vengeance for what happened to you. It got too personal, Liz. I can't go there again. I'm sorry, I just can't. I don't even recognize who I am anymore."
"I know," she whispered as she reached out again and wrapped her arms around him from behind, her cheek resting against his back. This time he didn't shake her off. "I'm so sorry," she said. He swallowed hard, fighting the lump in his throat.
Finally, he turned around and embraced her tightly, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair. After a few minutes she pulled back and cupped his cheek with her hand. "I don't think I can do this job without you," she said softly, her eyes glistening.
He pulled away and sank down on the couch and shook his head. "Liz, I don't think I..."
She crouched in front of him and put her hand on his knee. "You don't have to say anything right now. But please - think about it? I know that nothing I say can make up for what's happened. I wish I could undo it, but I can't. But even if the answer's no, I hope you can forgive me someday?"
He bowed his head, trying to hide his face from her, and took a deep breath. "I can, I mean I do. I want to," he said finally.
She squeezed his hand and rose to leave. She paused in the doorway. "I hope I see you tomorrow," she said gently. He stared at her wordlessly for a moment and she gave him a small half smile as she turned and walked out the door, closing it behind her with a click.
Maybe you will, he whispered to himself.